I have heard about a Hasid rabbi.
He was saying, “Life is like a river.”
A disciple asked, “Why?”
The Rabbi said, “How can I know? Am I a philosopher?”
Another day the rabbi was saying, “Life is like a river.”
Another disciple asked, “Why?”
And the rabbi said, “Right you are. Why should it be?”
This is tremendous understanding. No fanaticism. A man of knowing attains to a sense of humour. If you see someone who has no sense of humour, know well that that man has not known at all. If you come across a serious man, then you can be certain that he is a pretender; he is not enlightened. Knowing brings sincerity but all seriousness disappears. Knowing brings a certain playfulness; knowing brings a sense of humour. The sense of humour is a must. If you find a saint who has no sense of humour, then he is not a saint at all. Impossible! His very seriousness says that he has not achieved. Once you have some inner experiences of your own you become very playful, you become very innocent, childlike.
The man of knowledge is very serious. The man of knowledge always carries a serious, gloomy atmosphere around him. Not only does he carry a serious atmosphere, he makes anybody he comes into contact with, serious. He forces seriousness on them. In fact, deep down, he is worried that he does not know anything. He cannot relax. His seriousness is a tension. He is anguished. He knows that he knows only for its name’s sake, he knows that his knowledge is all fake—so he cannot laugh at it. The man of true enlightenment is just the opposite of all these foibles —he has achieved the REAL DEAL.